Lumps*

[Verse 1]

Walk up to failure

Walk up to regret

Walk up to a place you’ll never forget

Passed the pregnant guard

Then a red paradise of dreams and scars

Leg scars, arm scars, the belly scars lead by far

The marks of the old country's dog

The old cliche of exploitation blues

No offers no young nor [?] could refuse

“Welcome to Hell”

She may as well say

As you walk up, walk up

You walk up on love on your lunch break

[Verse 2]

Walk up, walk up

Walk up to see God, to see Sweet Jane

You still smell her snatch

As you trawl the accounts

Flip through the company books

You can say you rode the coattails of blind chance

But I know that you’re itchin for romance

Another lonely business cunt

The kind that only knows how to pay to touch

In the boardroom

Your fish fingers shake hands with the top flight men

Check your balls for lumps once they’ve left you

What’s that itch?

Is that new?

Is that workin' as it’s supposed to?

Am I still alive?

Is she sleeping with eyes open?

There’s a place for your briefcase

But watch out for the wandering hands

And walk up

[Verse 3]

Walk up

You're acting like you spend your days

Walking up on love on your lunch break

Walk up

To see God, to see Sweet Jane

To pay for a new name

To love on your lunch break

Think about these things or just get by, [be honouring?]

You're asked as you both walk past

Tell me if there must [?] I suppose

When the favourite catches your eye

She stays quiet in her sheer relief

The humiliation is almost complete

They'll chalk it up to blind faith

Tomorrow let them love on your fucking lunch break

You're fucking gonna walk up

You dirty hermitic motherfucker

[All night long?]